


a night in

by feloosha (gwencelot)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Background Marrow/Clover, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Takes place right before the election party but it doesn't really matter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwencelot/pseuds/feloosha
Summary: Qrow has not-so-secret feelings for James, and Clover is the ultimate wingman.---“Plus, I would never—” Clover continues, stopping himself mid-sentence. “Uh, never mind.”Qrow squints. “What?”Clover purses his lips, looking thoughtful. “Nothing, I just thought… well, I thought you and the general were… involved.”Qrow coughs loudly, ignoring the strange looks he gets from nearby Atlas guards as Clover pounds his back helpfully.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Qrow Branwen & Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Comments: 14
Kudos: 172





	a night in

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually ridiculous and can't stop writing these fools. Clover and Qrow are better as platonic bros don't @ me.
> 
> [See what's in the works at my tumblr!](https://feloosha.tumblr.com/wip)

“A night off, huh, Jimmy?”

James, Qrow notices, annoyingly doesn’t react at all to the question, instead choosing to pull up another holo screen with a swipe of his Scroll. Qrow pushes himself off the wall and fully into the office, coming to lean against the side of James’ desk. James finally pauses, squinting up at Qrow tiredly.

“Is there a reason you’re spending it in my office?” He asks, probably going for polite but coming off snarky. Qrow smirks. _If only you knew_ , he thinks, but opts for a nonchalant wave of his hand instead.

“Just catching up with an old friend.”

“Qrow,” James sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Qrow’s eyes follow the sharp lines of his hand and arm up to his broad shoulders, tensed and stretching the fabric of his coat tightly against his skin. He licks his lips.

“You’re the one insisting on a night off,” Qrow says. “Take your own advice for once. Let’s get dinner.”

“I don’t have _time_ for dinner,” James says shortly, turning his attention back to the screens in front of him. Qrow sneaks a peek; blueprints for the Amity project, lists of supplies, a feed of information regarding the election, and that’s only a few. James must be exhausted. Qrow says as much, drawing a groan from the taller man. James stretches back in his chair, arms raised high, and Qrow glances down, hoping to catch his shirt riding up. No luck; it’s tucked in tightly. Too bad.

“I’m buying,” He tries as a last resort, trying not to falter when James turns his head to look him dead in the eye, blue eyes narrowed in exasperation. It’s stupidly hot, or Qrow is just hopelessly attracted to him, or maybe both.

“I would love to,” James’ face softens, voice lowering to a murmur. “I… I just can’t right now, Qrow.” He sounds so genuinely disappointed that Qrow wants to hug him (not that he needs an excuse; he _always_ wants to hug him, among other things). Instead he sighs, nodding more to himself than to James.

“I get it. But please, Jim,” He turns to face the general, leaning down until they’re close enough that Qrow could kiss him. And _god_ does he want to. James blinks. “Don’t work yourself to death.” With a last, long look, Qrow pushes himself off the desk and heads out of the office.

* * *

Clover catches him on his way out of Atlas Academy, intending to head down to Mantle and check out Robyn’s election party. Ruby had insisted they didn’t need a chaperone, but Qrow doesn’t trust tonight to be completely peaceful in the wake of such a serious decision for the kingdom.

“Qrow!” He calls, meeting Qrow at the bottom of the stairs, uniform on despite being off-duty. Typical. “Where are you headed?”

“Mantle,” Qrow says as Clover falls into step with him. “Probably see what that party’s all about.”

Clover smiles knowingly as they approach the airship hangar and motion to the attendant for a ride. “Your niece will be fine. She’s strong, like someone else I know.”

Qrow rolls his eyes. “I know. It’s not that.”

“Well, I was thinking of heading there myself after grabbing dinner,” Clover continues. He pushes himself up on his toes, then back down on his heels, back and forth. “You could come with and we could go together if you want. I know a great bar not too far from there.”

Qrow considers his answer. He’s been afraid of this; Clover had not-so-subtly flirted with him on their recent missions together, but Qrow thought it was all in good fun. He hadn’t meant to lead the man on; in fact, in other circumstances, he might even have been interested. But Qrow’s stupid, hopeless heart reminds him helpfully that James is here, within reach; oblivious, gorgeous James who he’s been in love with since before the fall of Beacon, and even if Qrow can’t have him, he doesn’t want anyone else.

When he’s quiet for too long, Clover looks back at him, lips curled into a smirk. “You don’t have to worry about the Lien. Atlas military get a fairly generous discount.”

Qrow rolls his eyes. “That’s not the issue,” He says, folding his arms as Clover stuffs his hands in his pockets with a raised eyebrow.

“You a picky eater or something? I’m sure there’s _something_ you’ll like.”

“No, I just—I’m not interested,” Qrow says carefully, trying not to seem rude. Clover frowns.

“Is it… because it’s a bar? You don’t have to drink or anything, and it’s pretty separate from the dining area.”

“It’s not that,” Qrow says hurriedly. “I’m sorry, I… I have feelings for someone else,” He admits, hand coming up to rub at the back of his head.

“Oh?” Clover cocks his head, brow furrowing in confusion. Suddenly, his face lights up. “Oh! Qrow, uh… no.” He brings a hand up to cover the growing smile taking over his face, a light flush tinting his cheeks. “Um, I actually… I’m seeing Marrow. I just wanted to hang out as… as friends.”

Qrow pauses, absorbing the information before relief washes over him.

“Plus, I would never—” Clover continues, stopping himself mid-sentence. “Uh, never mind.”

Qrow squints. “What?”

Clover purses his lips, looking thoughtful. “Nothing, I just thought… well, I thought you and the general were… involved.”

Qrow coughs loudly, ignoring the strange looks he gets from nearby Atlas guards as Clover pounds his back helpfully. “Uh,” He croaks when he recovers, eyes refusing to meet Clover’s. “What makes you—I mean, I don’t…”

Clover has a look of sheer amusement on his face. Qrow wants to punch him. Has he been that obvious? Does that mean James knows, and is just sparing his feelings? Or was he making James uncomfortable, and that’s why he hadn’t wanted to hang out tonight? Qrow curses; a nearby light bulbs shatters, and Clover’s eyes widen at him, not having experienced his semblance this directly since their first mission together.

“Qrow,” Clover says carefully, hesitating before placing a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to… That may have been out of line. I just thought, seeing the way you and the general are together…” He trails off, shrugging. 

Their airship finally pulls up, but Clover makes a motion at the pilot, indicating they need a moment. Qrow is grateful.

“No, you’re fine. It’s just… not like that,” He says quietly, eyes fixed on the ground, face still hot and mind racing. He looks up when Clover makes a thoughtful noise. When their eyes meet, Clover’s face breaks out into a shit-eating grin.

“But you want it to be.”

It’s not a question. Qrow opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. 

“I get it, you know,” Clover says, mouth softening into a more gentle smile. “When I figured out how I felt about Marrow… I was nervous. I mean, we work together, I’m his superior, and _what_ would the rest of the team say?” He rolls eyes eyes at the last point, throwing his hands up and shaking his head. He hums thoughtfully, taking a step towards the airship. When Qrow makes to follow, Clover holds his hand out to stop him. “I get it,” He repeats softly. “But you’re making yourself miserable by not telling him, and trust me, he’s not doing any better.”

Qrow inhales sharply through his nose, trying to settle his now-churning stomach. “I can’t—”

“You _will_ ,” Clover cuts him off, grabbing him by the shoulders. Qrow squawks as he’s spun around, back towards the academy. “You don’t want to be in Mantle. And he doesn’t want to be working.” Clover gives him a light smack on the butt, encouraging him to start walking. Qrow glares, but all he receives is a wink in return, and then Clover and the airship are gone.

Well, fine. Qrow sighs and tries not to stomp petulantly as he heads back to the school, looking for a good spot that he can shift into his bird form out of sight. He knows Clover is right; there’s something undeniably different about the way James looks at him now, ever since they arrived in Atlas. Something soft, and something Qrow has been too afraid of confronting lest he be wrong. But something has to give, and Qrow doesn’t know when—or _if_ —there will ever be a better chance for him to figure it out.

* * *

When Qrow flies into James’ quarters through the open window, he’s not expecting him to be there; James is notorious for overworking himself, staying in his office until all hours of the night, and Qrow had only left about an hour ago. Qrow had planned to wait for him, maybe get a rare James yell of surprise at Qrow being in his apartment, yet here he is, sat at his small dining table with tired eyes staring at his Scroll. Qrow lands silently on his shoulder, letting out a caw of laughter when James jumps.

“Qrow,” He breathes when he realizes who it is, rolling his eyes and letting out a frustrated sigh. “You can’t just _do_ that—” Qrow takes that moment to shift back, landing on the ground with an audible _thud_. James looks at him warily. “What’s going on? Is everything okay? I thought you were going out.”

Qrow shrugs, pulling out the chair opposite him and making himself comfortable. He spots James’ coffee mug and smirks before grabbing it and taking a sip. James doesn’t bother protesting; he just sighs again and shakes his head.

“Kinda late to be drinking coffee,” Qrow says when he’s done, a teasing tone to his voice. James grunts and gestures at him as if to say, _look who’s talking_. His eyes drift to his Scroll again; he presses the button to lock the screen and puts it face down on the table, focusing his full attention on Qrow with a raised eyebrow. Qrow squirms under his gaze, fiddling with the handle of the mug while he steels himself for what he wants to— _needs_ to say next. “I ran into Clover,” He settles on, proud of himself for only beating around the bush a little.

James blinks like he’s expecting Qrow to go on. When he doesn’t, James has an amused lilt to his voice and replies, “Not an uncommon occurrence around here.”

Qrow whips his head up, surprised. “Oh, he has _jokes_.” James smiles and shakes his head, visibly relaxing. He tilts his head to rest it on his hand and watches Qrow, content to sit in silence and wait for him to get to the point. He always has been the more patient one. “Clover, he… he said something interesting. About us.” Qrow finally stops playing with the mug, letting his jittery hands rest on the table between them.

An unreadable look passes over James’ face and he glances down at the movement. “Oh?”

Qrow takes a deep breath. “He thought we were together,” He says quickly, not trusting himself to say it if he waits any longer. He doesn’t wait for James’ response. “And, you know, I don’t think he’s the only one who thinks that. Winter keeps giving me these weird looks whenever I leave your office alone. Earlier Yang asked if I had plans with my boyfriend and I’m pretty sure I know who she meant. And—” He stops abruptly when he feels James’ right hand in his left one, squeezing firmly. And he’s shaking, Qrow sees, shaking with… laughter? “James?” Qrow demands, feeling indignant.

James is using his other hand to cover his mouth and hide his smile, but his chuckles are loud in the silence of the room. He takes a moment to compose himself, and Qrow stares at their joined hands. “Qrow,” James finally says, mirth in his voice. “Just what would you like me to do about this?”

Huh. That wasn’t what he expected. Qrow moves slowly, unsure, until their fingers are wound together, metal and flesh. It’s warm. “I would like,” He starts softly, looking up. “To find out if they’re right, and if I should be kissing you right now.” James’ expression is open and kind, and Qrow thinks he wouldn’t even mind if he got his heart broken now. 

“It couldn’t hurt,” James murmurs, and then he’s tugging Qrow out of his seat and into a kiss. Qrow makes a surprised noise and grabs at James’ shoulders to try and steady himself; there’s nowhere for him to go, really, and he ends up on James’ lap, arms winding around his neck. Qrow sighs into the kiss, tilting his head; James’ hands have come down to hold his waist, sure and firm, and Qrow wonders how he ever breathed without this. James pulls back after a moment, chuckling when Qrow makes a disappointed noise and tries to chase his lips.

“So,” Qrow starts, scratching lightly at the hairs at the nape of James’ neck. “That was a thing.” He tries to sound casual, but he can feel his heart racing where they’re pressed chest to chest, the metal of James’ prosthetics digging in not unpleasantly.

James leans forward to nuzzle at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, ghosting his breath across the sensitive skin. “You’re an idiot, Qrow,” He says softly. Qrow shivers.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” He quips back, grinning when James levels him with a _look_.

“I love you,” James says seriously, and Qrow nearly chokes.

“That’s cheating,” He accuses. Hesitates. “I’ll allow it. I love you too.” 

James smiles back, pulling him in for another kiss. “I remember you saying something about dinner,” He says after a moment, lips moving to Qrow’s cheek. Qrow can’t help himself. He leans back until his back hits the table, running his own hands down his chest and trying not to laugh.

“Dinner is served, Jimmy.”

James huffs and yanks him back in by the shirt. And yeah, Qrow thinks as he wraps his legs around James’ waist, feels himself hoisted out of the chair and carried while they trade deepening kisses, Clover may have been right, but being loved by James Ironwood feels like a whole lot more than just good luck.


End file.
